So, I have to address the Barney/Bernardino issue. I have to admit that the response to his transformation really made me laugh. I was looking at all of these different interpretations and all my brain said was “Wow… how did I do that?” I’m impressed with it and stunned by it at the same time, lol.
So, since DiPignano isn’t seen much in the story until there’s an IT crisis, I’ve decided to throw this one spoiler out there. DiPignano is NOT part of the conspiracy. No matter how cocky he is, he would be pretty dumb to go to his boss and say, “I’m the one that can fuck you the worse” if he actually is part of the conspiracy.
This is not a “Why do you call me that” whining session. This is “you’re talking to my teammates and security about me behind my back. Do I have something to worry about?” This is “I finally show a bit of backbone after working for you for several years, and you suddenly need to ask people who I am. Because I chose to show you respect and humility when you came around, you mistook my meekness for weakness.” He told Christian that’s what this was about, so I guess I’m just a bit confused about where the conspiracy theories came from.
He’s not having a bitch-boy fest because Christian calls him “Barney.” Remember, he said he told Christian to call him Barney. Please read his words when he tells Christian that he thinks having Christian call him Barney may have misled Christian to believe that Barney was weak. Yes, Barney deserves respect. He’s proven his chops more times than can be counted. He was hired because he was the best in his field. He helped them find Ana when she was kidnapped. He identified everybody but three people in the branding video. He’s most likely been worth his weight in gold in the time that he’s been working for Christian or he wouldn’t still be working for Christian. So, yes, he DOES deserve respect. He has already earned it and he shouldn’t have to ask for it. His resume was most likely quite impressive before he started working for GEH. What kind of response do you think his resume will command now?
I normally let people go where they want to go with a storyline. This time, I couldn’t let it happen, because if you go off chasing that mouse through that maze, you’ll miss the rest of the story.
There’s nothing more to this DiPignano story but that there was a man who was tired of being treated like a boy and spoke up for himself. Sorry… no conspiracy theories.
I do not own Fifty Shades Trilogy or the characters. They belong to E. L. James. I am only exercising my right to exploit, abuse, and mangle the characters to MY discretion in MY story in MY interpretation as a fan. I hope you—as a fellow fan—enjoy it, too
“You look positively edible,” I say to Butterfly when she emerges from the dressing room. She’s wearing a red silk maternity dress that drapes off one shoulder and hugs every curve of her body, boasting her baby bump in the sexiest manner and ending just below her knees. And her hair! The way she curls it so that these big bellowing curls flow over one shoulder and down her body so that is brushes over our children—she’s driving me wild! She’s only wearing mascara and lip gloss from what I can tell, and her maternal beauty along with a blush of innocence in her eyes makes my libido fire like a volcano. It’s everything I can do not to take her right here… right now.
“It’s not too much?” she asks, cautiously, rubbing her hips and her baby bump, and that only makes me want her more.
“You tell me,” I say. I stroll over to her and take her hand, placing it on my stiffening erection. She gasps as she squeezes it gently and strokes it with the palm of her hand.
“Christian…” she groans, holding her head over so that her neck is exposed to me. I pull her close to me and taste her skin, thrusting a few times into her grip.
“I’m going to make love to you tonight once our guests have left,” I breathe into her neck. “I’m going to love you deep and long until your body is racked with pleasure and can’t take it anymore. I’m going to love you again and again, and when we’ve both had our fill, I’m going to kiss you until you fall asleep and hold you close to me until we awake with the sunrise.” She shivers against me and I can actually taste the flush of her skin. No use in me being the only one who has to suffer a raging libido for the next few hours. “Think about that, beautiful girl. I have plans for that beautiful body, and you’re going to love every second of them.”
“You’re not playing fair, Christian,” she whines, and I feel her nipples protruding from that sexy dress.
“Baby, I’m playing as fair as I can right now,” I warn as I take my thumbs and brush them once across those sweet nips on the outside of her dress.
“Mmm,” she coos, trying to push her breasts into my hands. I have to stop this now or the guest of honor won’t make her party. Maybe I should have just planned this for the two of us. No matter, we have all weekend. I take her hand that is currently cupping my dick and, after pushing into it once more, I remove it from its warm place and take it in mine.
“Unless you want me to stick my hand between your thighs and play in the wetness I know I’ll find there, I’m going to have to insist that you keep this to yourself. It’s everything I can do right now not to say fuck this party and take you against that wall.”
“Maybe a quickie?” she breathes, almost unable to restrain herself.
“No, Mrs. Grey,” I speak into her neck, “I want you feral when I’ m taking you tonight. I want you pulsating against me and oozing the same sexual wantonness that you’re oozing right now.” She looks up at me through her lashes with caged desire in her eyes. I pull her against my body and my erection. “Of course, this dress is too much. You’re sexier than I’ve ever seen you, and that says a lot, but this is your party and we’re with family and friends. So you look as sexy as you want, baby.” I lean down and kiss her lightly so as not to ruin her lip gloss. She gulps and then nods, a futile attempt to regain her composure.
“Now, you go down and get ready to greet our guests while I try to talk down this initial boner and then keep it down for the rest of the night.” She swallows again and then takes a deep breath.
“Okay,” she takes another breath, then leaves the room. I watch as that round ass sways back and forth, speaking volumes to me and my painfully thrumming dick.
It’s going to be a long night.
When I get downstairs, of course Allen and James have arrived. They’re always first. Butterfly has Allen on one of the leather sofas engrossed in conversation. James spots me the minute I get to the bottom of the stairs.
“How’s it going?” he asks. I shrug.
“As well as can be expected, I guess,” I reach for one of the beers in a nearby tub of ice. “What about you?”
“I need this,” he says. “I’m wound so tight, I feel like I’ll explode. Allie threatened to move back to his apartment earlier this week.” I frown.
“He did?” I ask surprised. “What happened?”
“This. This shit with GEH. We’ve got to get this guy, because I’m not going to lose my man over this.” I nod.
“I concur,” I say looking over at Butterfly. “I had a similar situation with Ana. He can have the fucking company if it’s going to cost me my wife. I’ll shut this shit down tomorrow if necessary.”
“It won’t be,” James assures me. “We’re right on the heels of catching this bastard. I suggest that you make an example out of him, Christian. If you don’t, he’ll just do this shit again.”
“Oh, I intend to,” I say, gazing over at Butterfly who has fallen back into her natural entertaining persona.
“We may need to do a Boys’ Night again soon,” he suggests. Come to think of it, I don’t think James and I have been to Boys’ Night since I’ve been married.
“When is the next one?” I ask him.
“Next Wednesday, I think,” he says. “I’ll find out for sure. You’re game?”
“Barring any fires, floods, or hurricanes, I think it will be a good rebonding for us. It’ll give Butterfly an opportunity to reconnect with her friends, too. Things have been so stressful since this all began. I just want that happy life I planned with my wife and kids. Is that too much to ask?”
“Unfortunately, this is the plight of the rich and powerful,” he informs me. “I see it all the time—even more so when you have a family.”
“Are you sure I can coax you to come to work for me? You’re a fucking mastermind and I’d love to have you on my team.”
“Unfortunately not. There are more reasons than I can name that would prevent me from working for you, but I’ll be at your disposal whenever you need me, which is just as good. Barney’s a decent guy and he knows his shit. This guy would have even gotten past me until we spotted him doing something he shouldn’t be doing.” I think he’s trying to save DiPignano’s ass, but he’s not on the chopping block, so there’s no cause for it.
“Yeah, I don’t call him Barney anymore. He’s DiPignano now. I know he’s one of the best at what he does, but so are you. I pride myself of finding the best talent and making offers that they can’t refuse—which is how I convinced Allen to join my team.”
“One of the reasons why I couldn’t work for you. We’d drive each other batshit if we worked together. I love him dearly, but I know that’s a terrible idea.”
“Well, if you ever change your mind… I know I would have the fucking dream team with you and DiPignano on staff.” He laughs.
“You already do,” he says. “Like I said, I’m at your disposal.” He turns around and looks at Allen while taking a drink of his beer, that unmistakable longing in his eyes. “I’m thinking about asking him to marry me.”
Okay, that caught me off guard. “Really?”
“Really. I’m not going anywhere else.” He turns away from Allen and walks over to the fireplace. “I used to date this guy, Jose. He was my last serious relationship before Allie. I really loved him. I thought we were going to get married. We graduated from college and his photography took him abroad. I was heartbroken. I knew that he had to follow his dream, but I was still crushed that he chose to leave me. I waited for him for a while to see if he would come back to me or to decide if I wanted to follow him. I finally decided that it was time to get on with my life. When I met Allie, I wasn’t looking for a relationship. I honestly thought he would be another one night stand. He was so much fun and I just wanted to be with someone. Afterwards, we talked and talked and talked until the sun came up, and I’ve been a goner ever since.”
“Whatever happened the other guy… Jose?” I ask.
“He came back eventually, and I agreed to meet him. I wanted to make sure there weren’t any residual feelings for him. My heart raced when I heard his voice and I really did want to see him. I didn’t want to tell Allie at first because I was sure that he would just throw in the towel and leave me, but I couldn’t keep it from him. It wouldn’t have been fair. He was upset about me seeing Jose, but agreed that I should see him if there was a chance that I still wanted him. I know it hurt him. I know he was putting me and my feelings first, but he was devastated.”
“You went to see Jose anyway?” I ask, taking a drink of my beer. He nods.
“Not having seen him for so long left all these doubts in my mind—unanswered questions, open wounds, old feelings. I needed to know if there was still something there. When I got to the restaurant, it was like no time had passed at all. We talked for a while, we slid right back into our old habits and for a fleeting second, I thought I might have wanted him back. The moment I entertained that thought, Allie came to mind. No matter how hard I tried to concentrate on that moment, I kept seeing Allie’s brown eyes looking back at me. All of a sudden, Jose was nobody—just some guy that I used to date. I had to get out of there quickly and go find my Allie. I couldn’t get to him fast enough. I found him in a restaurant with Ana barely hanging on by a thread.” I frown.
“I remember that night,” I say. “I thought Allen was her boyfriend, then I thought you were her boyfriend. I think I thought you were her boyfriend, first.” He frowns.
“You’ve lost me,” he says. I take another drink of my beer.
“I’d have to let you too far into my twisted mind and my stalker tendencies to explain that. Just know that I thought you were her boyfriend first and then I thought Allen was her boyfriend, and I was shocked to discover that you and Allen were dating.” He points at me.
“That night in the restaurant. That’s why you were looking at me like you had seen a ghost. I almost stopped to speak to you, but you looked like you might self-destruct.”
“We might not be here today had you stopped to speak to me,” I tell him. “Ana hated me. She loathed me. She probably would have screamed had she known I was there and crawled away from me like a vampire running from sunlight.” He laughs at me.
“That bad, huh?”
“At one point, I thought she was going to throw me in jail,” I say taking a sip of my beer.
“In jail?” he asks in horror. “How?” I sigh.
“I had some of those anger-management-group-therapy meetings that she facilitated and she was going to turn in a report that said every bad thing about me that could possibly be said.” James gasps and points at me.
“That was you!” he says and I just nod because I remember that he helped her out of the building that night. “How did I not put that together? After all this time, how did I not put that together?”
“What are you doing to my boyfriend over there?” Allen says.
“Going down Memory Lane,” I answer. “I just revealed that I’m the reason he damn near had to carry Ana out of the community center.”
“I thought I told you that,” Allen tells James.
“No, Allie, you didn’t,” James retorts.
“I’m sure I never told you that particular bit of information,” Butterfly chastises. I raise an eyebrow at her.
“Have we met?” I ask.
As my husband boasts some more about his amazing stalker abilities, I open the door for Gary and Marilyn along with Maxie and Phil. Maxie is ready to burst! She’s bigger than me and I’m carrying two babies. However, I have a little over three more months to go and she’s due in a few weeks, so she’s ready to blow.
“Please, Max, sit down,” I say, gesturing her to the big, comfortable seat I was in.
“Don’t get too comfortable, Ana,” she cautions, “You’re right behind me.”
“What’s with this jungle gym going inside of me?” I ask, taking the seat next to her.
“Oh, yeah, you’re where… five and a half, six months? Settle in, sister. It’s going to be a bumpy ride from here on out… literally!”
“How do you feel?”
“Huge!” she says with a sigh. “Sex is out of the question the last month, I’ll warn you in advance—although it would be impossible for him to find my vijayjay anyway right now.” My eyes grow wide and I look over at Christian, who frowns and comes over to me.
“What’s wrong?” he asks in that fatherly tone that tells me that I better not lie. I shake my head and lie anyway.
“Nothing,” I say, the look of horror still on my face.
“You guys are still going at it like rabbits, aren’t you?” Maxie laughs while rubbing her stomach. My look of horror changes to her. Christian tilts his head, waiting for elaboration on the story. “I just told Ana that, contrary to popular belief, you’re not just going without sex for about six weeks after the baby is born. You’re going without sex for about two and a half months.”
“Two and a half months?” Christian asks, trying to look unaffected. She nods.
“Yes, there’s no penetration the last month of the pregnancy. It could cause damage. Your doctor would let you know, but probably not until your 32 to 36 week check-up.” She puts her hand on mine. “Believe me, you’re not going to want to have sex that last month. Moving around is going to be a task, let alone getting in the mood.” She’s got to be kidding. I can’t imagine a moment not wanting my husband. Christian leans down to my ear.
“Don’t worry, baby, I’ll take care of you,” he whispers.
“What about you?” I ask, a bit forlorn.
“I’ll take care of me, too,” he says, with a smile. I gently stroke his face.
“We’ll improvise,” I say softly.
“Oh my God, do you two ever stop?” Maxine whines. We say “no” at the same time, and she just laughs. Christian kisses me and goes back over to talk to Gary, Philip, and James. By now, Gail has emerged from the kitchen and joined the party, leaving the serving to the additional staff Christian hired—although food and libations is mostly buffet style, so they really won’t have much to do. I’m telling the girls and Al about the hussy that had to be fired for burning the French bread when Jason opens the door for more of our guests—Val and Elliot, Mia and Ethan, Pops and Uncle Herman… and Grace and Carrick.
Christian looks over at me and gives a tight smile. I throw a look at him asking him to please behave. Almost in response, he nods once and continues his conversation.
Mia and Val come over and hug me, wishing me happy birthday. I try to stand when Grace gets to me, but she stops me.
“No, no, you stay there,” she says sweetly. She leans down and kisses me on the cheek. “Happy Birthday, Dear.” I smile at her.
“Thank you, Grace.” I try to be a good hostess from my seat since no one will allow me to stand. “Those of you who haven’t been to Food and Libations before, white wines in the wine cooler; red wines on the counter; beer, sodas, and juices in any of the ice tubs you see strewn about… and help yourselves. Water is in the kitchen in the fridge.” I lean forward and about four people reach for me, thinking I’m trying to stand. It makes me laugh.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I tell them, “I’m just trying to get comfortable.”
“What about your cha… oh!” Christian almost chastises me for not sitting in the comfortable chair that he made sure was available to me until he looks over and see the very pregnant Maxine Guest sitting in it. “I wasn’t thinking. I should have made sure that there were two. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t you dare apologize,” I tell him. “I’ll be fine and you were very sweet to think of me.” I’m grunting now, because this chair is more uncomfortable than I thought, and kind of low to the ground.
“Gary, Jason, can you please grab that chair out of the den? It looks a little like that one.” He points to the chair that Maxie is sitting in. “Come, darling.” He puts his arms around me and, stabilizing my lower back, lifts me out of the chair-on-the-ground. My legs protest a bit to the standing, but my back is ever grateful. He massages my lower back while instructing two of the other gentlemen to move the chair that I had just occupied.
“I’m sorry, Ana,” Maxie apologizes. “Had I known…”
“You’d still be sitting in that chair. Now, hush!” I say, closing my eyes and sinking into Christian’s massage. I hear the chairs moving around behind me and I’m ready to sit as his massage is turning my legs to mush.
“Bring that bolster over here,” I hear him say and laugh a bit to myself. The great Christian Grey—business man and billionaire—knows what a bolster is.
Once they’ve finished with my chair, it feels almost as comfortable as the one I surrendered to Maxie. I settle in the seat, relieved to be off my feet and so happy that this chair sits higher than the last one.
“You’re going to have to get rid of these, soon, too,” Christian says, taking off one nude pump and massaging my foot. It’s absolute heaven.
“Not yet, but soon,” I concur. I will be the quintessential “barefoot and pregnant” woman if he expects me to where flats or kitten heels. Nonetheless, I lean back and enjoy the foot massage of one, then the other foot while the conversations goes on around me…
Maxie and Phil have already chosen the furniture for their little girl’s nursery and the room is waiting for her arrival.
Mia and Ethan have sent out the save the date cards for their wedding.
Pops is in good spirits, although they haven’t been able to locate a kidney for him. Uncle Herman is battling a bit with his brothers over Pops’ house, but he still refuses to sell it.
My father and Mandy are the last to arrive as little Harry just wouldn’t settle, and we all sit down to dinner. Conversation spread across the large table continually. There were no awkward pauses of any kind, even though Christian and his mother still aren’t really speaking. They’re not ignoring each other—at least Grace is not ignoring Christian, but he is avoiding eye contact with her.
The festivities go well into the night with all of the catching up, the men having beers out at the fire pit, the girls giggling over all things baby and wedding in the great room or out on the deck. I actually fell asleep during one of the conversations. The soccer players keep me up at night until Christian gets them to settle, and I usually take a nap during the day, but with all the excitement today, that didn’t happen. I try to convince everyone that I’m fine, but that didn’t work. It’s well after 2am and everyone decides to call it a night and go to the vacation houses. Allen and James were going to head back, but decided better of it since it’s so late. They’ll stay the night and head back in the morning.
Once everyone has retired to the other houses, Christian and the security team go about the business of securing the house while I head up to the master bedroom. I rummage through my bag and find the long-sleeved lace maternity nightie that I packed. I don’t know how I’ll look in it since I don’t wear much lingerie these days, but Christian promised to make love to me tonight until I couldn’t take it anymore and I’m going to hold him to it… tired, or not.
I peel myself out of the red dress and underwear after stepping out of the nude pumps. I slide into the barely-there nightie and examine my swollen frame in the mirror. Will Christian find this sexy? He always talks about my baby bump, but part of me wonders if he only does it to make me feel better.
And what about that enormous erection he had before the party? Do you think that was just to make you feel better?
Yes, there is that, I suppose. I rub my belly and examine myself in the mirror once again.
“Oh. My. God.”
My thoughts are interrupted by Christian’s voice, standing in the doorway of our bedroom and looking at me from across the room. He steps inside and closes and locks the door behind him.
“Come here,” he says in a voice so sexy and powerful that my feet respond before my brain does. I walk over to him and stand in front of him. He examines me from head to toe, rubbing his fingers together in a way that lets me know he wants to touch me.
“You are exquisite,” he breathes, pronouncing every word. I look down at my body and back up at him.
“You like it?” I ask, uncertain.
“No,” he says. “I love it. You’re beautiful.” I smile shyly. I can’t help the blush that comes across my cheeks. “You know that, don’t you?” I look up at him and back down again. How do I answer that? When I was pretty, petite Ana with the flat stomach and the great figure, sure I felt hot. Now I’m big as a horse Ana who can’t sit in chairs that are too low or too hard and needs help standing most of the time. According to Maxie, soon he won’t even be able to find my pussy. It’s kind of hard to feel like a sexpot.
Christian takes my face in his hands and raises my eyes to him. He examines me for several moments until I begin to look at him questioningly.
What is it?
“Ana… Butterfly…” His voice is pained and his expression is unreadable. He’s frowning at me and I don’t know why.
What is it?
“Baby… did I do this to you?” he asks, his voice laced with some unknown emotion.
“Do what?” I ask.
“Make you lose your self-confidence.” The words hit me in the face. Did he do this to me? I can’t answer that. I don’t think so. I’m not sure. Have I lost my self-confidence? Of course, I have! I just said I did a minute ago… well, to myself anyway. Pretty, petite Ana is not so pretty and petite anymore, but Christian didn’t do that… did he? I don’t know what to say. Was it the lonely nights and days that made me feel this way… or did I feel this way before all of that? I don’t know… I just don’t know.
He won’t let me turn my head away from him. His eyes are boring into mine, into my soul, and he won’t let me look away. Forced to face his question and unable to give him an answer, I begin to weep. I hate admitting that I don’t have the confidence I used to have. It took so long to build it up and now, it seems impossible to find it sometimes. I feel like a receptacle for the babies, and that’s not a bad thing, but sometimes I feel like nothing more than that. I wonder if he really means that I’m beautiful when he looks at me, or does he just mean that this is a beautiful thing that I’m doing? I know that it is, but…
“Baby, no, please…” He holds me close in his arms while I cry. I’m ashamed… ashamed because I feel that carrying these beautiful babies and keeping them safe and secure until they’re born is not enough. I want to be sexy again, to be desirable. I want to look in the mirror and remember what it feels like to be hot, and the truth is… I don’t.
Christian leads me over to the rocking chair and helps me to sit. It’s a real rocking chair—the old wooden one—not the new gliders. It’s got a thick cushion in it that makes it quite comfortable. I want this in our babies’ room. The gliders are nice, but I want this.
He gets down on his knees in front of me and pulls my hands from my face. I didn’t even know that I had placed them there. He cups my face again and brings my eyes up to meet his.
“Talk to me… please,” he beseeches me.
“I don’t know what to say,” I weep.
“Say exactly what you’re feeling. Please, Butterfly…” I take a deep breath and start talking.
“I used to feel so pretty,” I say. “I used to look in the mirror and love what I see… how my clothes fit… my shoes… my hair…everything! Now… I… I just don’t!” I cry. There, I’ve said it. I feel ugly. Plain and simple, that’s it.
How could she not know how beautiful she is? Maybe it’s the hormones making her feel this way.
No. No, Grey. You know better than that. How many times did she tell you that she just wanted to feel pretty? How many times did she say she felt ugly and she just wanted attention? Even when she flirted with those donors, that’s what she said. And what do you do? You punish her for wanting to feel desirable, for wanting to feel lovable. You make her feel even more unimportant and more unattractive. You think a few pretty words are going to fix that? Nice work, Grey, really nice work.
“Baby,” I say, bringing her forehead to mine, “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry. You’re so beautiful. You’re so desirable, I think of you when you’re not around and all I want is to be near you again—to hold you and to love you. I was a fool for making you think or feel anything different.” She’s shaking her head. I know what she’s trying to say. I know she’s trying to tell me that it wasn’t all me, but I know better. I know that whatever insecurities may have already been there, I drove them home instead of affirming her worth and beauty.
“I don’t know what I have to do to make this up to you, to make you believe once again that you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on, but you will believe it again. I promise you will.”
This is something that I know has to come from within, and there’s only so much I can do to help it along. I know firsthand that it’s a lot easier and faster to tear someone down than it is to build someone up. It takes a lot of work and somehow, I have to repair what I’ve destroyed. I don’t know how, but I have to try.
I wipe her cheeks with my thumbs and slowly pull her to me, gently kissing her lips. I kiss her repeatedly until she stops crying.
I love you, Butterfly. I love you so much.
I unbutton my shirt and take it off without removing my lips from her. They’re so soft. I hate that they’re this soft because it means that she’s been crying, but it also calls to me to make her feel better.
“Touch me, baby… please…”
She puts her delicate hands on my chest and it’s electrifying. It sends a shock right through me to all of my extremities. She calls to me on a level I’ve never felt before. No one has ever made me feel the way she does—strong and weak at the same time, like I could take on the world with one hand tied behind my back… or like I could fall about with the slightest breath of air. I always wondered how she could possibly do that to me. Then I see her like this, and I know. I know only too well.
I run my hands through her beautiful long hair and kiss her again, more passionately this time. She moans into my mouth and her hands on my bare skin still sends shocks through me. My lips travel up her jaw to her earlobe and down her neck while my fingers pinch her hardening nipples through this sexy lace nightie.
“Fuck, you’re so sexy,” I breathe as I feel my dick starting to thrum painfully in my boxer briefs. My mouth replaces my fingers, lathing her nipples through the lace. She thrusts her fingers into my hair and throws her head back, pushing her breasts into my mouth. I groan loudly, Greystone angrily fighting to get out of my pants.
“Christian,” she whines. I know that whine all too well. She’s hot, so hot… and Greystone is demanding to be released.
As I work my way down this beautiful swollen body, this gorgeous creature squirming before me and aching to be taken, I undo my pants and work them down to my knees. Taking only a moment, I stand and drop them to the floor with my boxers and stand before my wife naked—my dick standing at full mast.
“Do you see what you do to me?” I nearly growl, as she sits there panting, wanton and waiting for me. I sit flat on the floor and throwing her legs over my shoulder, I hoist her hips up to my mouth and hungrily indulge in her juices.
“Ah! Christian!” She can’t keep from crying out when I consume her with my whole mouth. The rocking chair is leaning back to accommodate her body’s angle and she is holding on to the armrests, her core wide open to me.
Yes, baby. Let me taste you.
Her flavor and aroma has my dick jumping wildly in my lap and I place her hips gently back on the seat of the rocking chair. I wipe her juices off of my face and mouth with my hand and move down to her feet, kissing her toes and the tops of her feet while she catches her breath. I continue up her ankles, her legs, and her thighs with open-mouthed kisses, and she’s panting again, her anticipation rising as I work my way back up her to her pussy. She cries out as I give it a lick and a sloppy open-mouthed kiss before I move up to her belly, pushing the nightie up and kissing it all over.
The nightie rises more and I take her round bare breast in my mouth and suck hard. She squeals at the sensation and arches her back and now, I have to be inside. Sorry, Maxine, I don’t know about Phillip, but I’m a big boy. I’ll find my way around that precious cargo until the doctor says I can’t indulge anymore. Once Greystone can’t breach the perimeters anymore, I’ll feast on that sweet fruit and jack myself off until I’ve had my fill. Until then, this little flower is all mine for the taking.
“Hold on, baby,” I tell her, and she grabs the armrest with both hands. I position my head at her opening and slide inside, both of us gasping at the tightness. Shit, she feels fantastic. Greystone is so happy that I can feel him jumping and I haven’t even moved yet.
“Wrap your legs around me!” I growl and she quickly obliges. I grab the legs of the chair where they meet the arms rest and pull if forward—back and forth—rocking that sweet pussy onto my dick. God, it feels so good. She glides over me, over and over again. Neither one of us can move, both of us holding on to the chair in some way.
“Christian…” she whines again. Yes, baby, feel me. Feel me loving you.
“God, it feels so good… every time, it feels so good…” I groan. I raise my hips with every rock to meet hers. Her head falls back a bit and her mouth is open, that hot little nightie up above her bobbing tits as I stroke into her over and over again.
“Look at me,” I command her. “Open your eyes! Look at me!” She opens her eyes and there is it, that feral look that I’m used to—wanton, sensual lust oozing from every pore.
“Yes, baby, ssss…” I can barely talk. “Do you… feel good?”
“Yes! Yes!” she pants, gripping the armrests.
“Oh, yes, baby, ssss….” I hiss, “You sure do! Ugh!” I look down at where our bodies meet—her sliding onto my dick with every forward rock, her lips and opening wrapped tight around me with every pull, leaving a thick white cream and slick juices behind on my dick each time only to gobble it up again with each thrust.
“Oh, God, Ana, baby…” the sight is so hot and the burn is so good. When she starts to roll her hips slightly with each rock, her clit coming down to stroke my dick every time, I almost fucking lose it. I feel her walls on every side and I have to stop looking at my dick sliding into and out of that sweet pussy or I’m going to blow any second. I hold my head back and rock into her again and again until I can’t take the pleasure anymore.
“Baby…” I pant, “Baby, I’m gonna come!” I’m gritting my teeth and grunting. When I get no answer, I open my eyes and look at her. Her eyes are screwed shut and she’s gripping the arms of the chair. Tears are streaming down her temples and her teeth are clenched shut. Her ankles are clamped behind my back and her whole body is trembling. Her thighs are squeezing my hips mercilessly and she is agonizing through her orgasm, trying not to make a sound.
I’m done for. I can’t restrain myself.
I embrace her and snatch her close to me, pumping hard until I feel myself emptying inside of her. The action breaks her resolve and she thrusts her fingers into my hair, still shaking violently and keening softly on my shoulder. My orgasm seems to go on forever as I hold her onto my throbbing manhood. The feeling is indescribable Nirvana as I pulse into her consistently tightening muscles. How could two people possibly be made to fit together so well?
I’m on my knees, holding her close to me, one arm around her waist and the other firmly clasped on an ass cheek until Greystone stops pulsing.
“Kiss me,” I breathe and her lips meet mine, my tongue wandering hungrily through her mouth and her tongue meeting my challenge. How could she believe she’s not desirable?
I stand to my feet, still inside her and still enjoying the pulsing of her muscles. She feels so good. With my arms still around her waist, I carry her to the bed and sit on the edge. I pull her nightie over her head and off her body, then turn off the lamp before scooting up to the pillow and lying on my back, still indulging in the feeling of her muscles squeezing around me. She feels so good and I don’t want to leave this warm place yet.
She is now lying comfortably on top of me, straddling me while I play in her hair and neck, passionately tasting her delicious mouth and occasionally stroking into her sweet core. I can’t get enough of her. I could do this over and over and over again until I die, and that’s just what I plan to do.
She flattens her hands on my chest and pushes herself up. She pulls her beautiful, long mahogany hair over one shoulder. I can see her clearly by the moonlight shining in the window. She’s exquisite. Looking in my eyes, she starts to move again, grinding her hips slowly and sensually over mine. My hands slide to her thighs and I caress the soft skin there. Her hands move to my shoulders and she continues her melodious glide, and I slowly—very slowly—start to feel my passion rise again.
“Touch me, Christian,” she breathes, and I caress her hips, her back, our babies, her breasts, and finally her face.
“You are so beautiful,” I say with reverence, slowly pronouncing each word so that she’s knows it’s my heart talking and not my passion. “I love you, Anastasia. With everything I have… I love you.”
She gasps three times in quick succession and a single tear falls on my chest from her beautiful blue eye. I sit up quickly and hold her in my arms, never interrupting her movement.
“You’re mine,” I whisper in her ear, holding her close to me. “You’re all mine, and I love you—you beautiful, beautiful girl, I love you with all my heart.”
I hold her close to me, letting her find her rhythm and matching it with the slight rise of my hips.
“Yes, baby, love me… love me Butterfly.” Her breathing is frantic and her head falls back. I kiss her between her breasts and lick the valley up to her neck. After several moments, I feel her starting to tighten again.
“Feel it,” I whisper in her ear. “Feel it, Baby. That’s my love for you. That’s what I feel for you every second of every day of my life.” She’s shaking again, panting and gasping for air. “Oh, baby, that wonderful feeling couldn’t even scratch the surface of what I feel for you.” She moans mournfully in her chest as I watch her skin flush from her orgasm, so intense that I can see it even in the dark.
Oh yes, Butterfly, feel it. Feel my love for you.
Her head lolls back as she wheezes tearfully through her orgasm, completely overcome with pleasure and emotion. When the wave is finished, she wraps her arms tightly around my neck and weeps deeply, resuming her rhythm and pouring all the emotion that she can’t control into me. It’s powerful, almost unbearable, and Greystone is swelling and throbbing almost as much as my heart in no time!
“Baby! Ah!” I try to protest, why, I don’t know. She’s still weeping and grinding into me, taking me over little by little until…
“Ah! Aaahh! Oh God!” I almost can’t breathe, and when she utters the words…
“I can’t breathe without you…”
I detonate wildly inside her… again! As I hold her down onto me trying to tame my uncontrollably pulsing erection, she pulls her head back, thrusts her fingers into my hair and kisses me so passionately that I feel the kiss and the orgasm all over my body. I collapse into her body, holding on for dear life as she makes me come from my staff, my mouth, and every pore of my body. When my muscles release enough for me to control my own body, I can only fall back on the bed with her in my arms—completely spent and wrung, totally helpless, and panting profusely. She kisses my chin, up my jaw until she gets to my ear and whispers,
“That’s what I feel for you.”
I awake briefly and it’s still dark outside. My beautiful Butterfly is lovingly snuggled against me in our favorite position, sleeping peacefully with her hair splayed over parts of both our bodies. I hear her whimpering and I’m a bit concerned. I listen more closely and… it’s not her. I briefly tune my hearing to discover that the sound is coming from another part of the house—far away, but very distinct. It’s rhythmic and growing more and more in intensity. Next, I hear something that answers all my questions…
“Yes, Love! Yes! Yes!”
I guess our rooms aren’t as far apart as we thought. I nuzzle my nose into my wife’s hair and sleep finds me again quickly, despite Gail’s whimpering and Jason’s calls of passion.
I awake before Butterfly the next morning and decide to have a cup of coffee before the house wakes. Knowing that we’re not here alone, I put on a pair of pants and a T-shirt. The person I find in our kitchen, sitting at the island is definitely not who I thought it would be.
“Good morning, Christian.” I freeze in my spot momentarily. I know she’s supposed to be in the cabin next door. What is she doing here? “Gail let me in.”
“Good morning, Mother,” I say. I go over to ther coffee pot and take a mug from the cupboard. I pour the steaming hot coffee into my mug and start drinking it right away. I can’t stand cold coffee.
“The party went very well, I thought,” she says.
“I thought so, too,” I reply, keeping the polite conversation. “It was a nice turnout. The food was good.”
“It was a good idea,” she says and I nod, taking another sip of my coffee. “How was Ana last night… after the party?” Fucking fabulous.
“She was fine. She had a good time…” during and after the party.
“Not too tired, I hope.”
“No, not too tired, but the babies keep her up sometimes with the kicking in the middle of the night, so I try to let her sleep in when she can.”
“Oh?” She seems a bit interested in that. “How does she get them to settle?” She’s aching to give some advice. I’ll let her if she wants to, but I’m going to take some pleasure in this response.
“I talk to them, or read to them, or tell them a story,” I say drinking more of my coffee.
“You do,” it’s more of a statement than a question.
“Yes, I do. Pocahontas is a favorite of ours.” This surprises her.
“You were a very shy child, very reserved. I don’t remember Disney being your forte.”
“It wasn’t,” I confess. “Butterfly introduced me.” She raises her eyes to me then looks back down at her glass.
“Butterfly.” She repeats the name as if to see how it sounds in her voice.
“Yes,” I say, drinking the last of my coffee. “She had the beans’ room painted in Disney wildlife characters—the mice from Cinderella, Winnie the Pooh, Bambi, Dumbo, several owls. I got a little freaked out when I met Grandmother Willow.” My mother frowns and then realization dawns.
“Grandmother Willow… Pocahontas. You always did meet your fears head on.” I look at her.
“How far have you gotten so far?” Hmm, can’t lie about it.
“Only Pocahontas.” She laughs lightly.
“If you want to face your fears, I suggest you watch Bambi next and then Dumbo.” I didn’t see anything scary about a deer and a flying elephant.
“Bambi’s a deer,” she says. I nod. “Deer get hunted.”
“Yeah. So… what, Bambi dies?”
“No, but his mother does.” Oh. Okay.
“And what about Dumbo?”
“Dumbo was teased and mistreated because he was different… and very misunderstood.” I see what she’s getting at. “He became a huge success in the end, but it wasn’t an easy journey. Dumbo wasn’t even his name.”
“Why is it called ‘Dumbo’ then?” I ask.
“It was a cruel nickname. His name was ‘Jumbo.’” Oh. I see.
“Thanks for telling me,” I say quietly.
“I have all of the Disney classics—the movies and the books if you want to borrow them.” I could buy a whole Disney library tomorrow if I wanted to. She knows this, but I accept her olive branch.
“Thanks, Mom. I think Ana would really appreciate that.”
“Appreciate what?” Butterfly says, yawning as she walks into the kitchen. “Oh! Grace.”
“Good morning, Ana,” Mom says.
“Good morning,” she replies sleepily.
“Why didn’t you wait for me? I would have helped you,” I scold.
“I’m fine,” she says, still groggy. “No fair! How could you do this to me?” she says, looking at the coffee. Mom frowns.
“I didn’t do it, but I did indulge. I’m sorry,” I tell her. “She’s trying to cut back on the caffeine.” My mom makes an “O” with her mouth and nods. Butterfly is trying to get a glass from the cabinet. I forget how short she is without her stilettos. “Orange juice or spritzer?”
“Spritzer, please,” she instructs as I take a glass from the cabinet. I go to the refrigerator and get crushed ice from the ice maker.
“Christian tells me babies keep you awake at night,” Mom says. Just go with it, Butterfly.
“Oh. You mean the soccer players,” Butterfly corrects her. Atta girl!
“Soccer players?” Mom laughs.
“Oh yeah, they’re in the pre-season right now. I’m only too sure they’ll both make the team,” she says as I sit her spritzer in front of her. “I thought they were going to burst out of me the first time they kicked me. I almost called 911…”
Their conversation takes off and Ana talks about the babies’ room and the furniture we’ve picked as well as anything else baby she can think of. As the conversation progresses, I kiss my mother on the cheek and leave the kitchen. I don’t want the hatchet flying around anymore than she does, but I don’t want to keep talking about it either.
This is beautiful country this time of year. The snow hasn’t fallen just yet, so Elliot and I will go on a hike today. I haven’t organized any group activities except for the party, so the rest of the gentlemen are on their own. Allen and James are going back to Seattle this morning as James doesn’t want to be too far from the project in case there’s some breakthrough. I know that Ana will be having a spa day today. She normally loathes them, but she hasn’t had one in so long that one is very much overdue and she’s all for it.
After I lace up my boots, I step out onto the back deck to get the air in my lungs and prepare for the hike. I look over to the house that my family is sharing and I see Pops wrapped up warm and sitting on the back porch.
“Good morning, Pops,” I say walking over to him.
“Good morning, Christian. Oh, it’s beautiful out here. The change of scenery is nice.” Pops hasn’t been doing too well since just after the wedding and has been pretty much housebound. A nurse, technician, and physical therapist all come to Dad’s house for his treatments and dialysis. I’m afraid that he doesn’t have much time left if we can’t find him a kidney.
“We may have to do something about that change of scenery,” I tell him. “You can’t stay cooped up in the same house forever. You know Ana and I are building a house on Mercer Island…”
“Yes, I know, and you make sure that I have my own room and all the comforts of home when I come to visit, but don’t you dare ask me to live there,” he chastises. “First of all, Rick would have your throat and second, I could dream of imposing on you kids.”
“It’s not an imposition, Pops. We’ve got so much room…”
“Did you just hear what I said about my son?” he laughs. “He and Grace are in seventh heaven with me living at their place. If I’m honest, so am I. It’s comfortable and homey, they don’t make me feel like a burden…”
“That’s because you’re not, Pops,” I tell him, taking a seat in the chair next to him. “I wish I had met you sooner. I just feel like there was more that could have been done to help you.”
“Trust me, son, they did everything they possibly could. Some of the best doctors in the world practice and learn at Detroit Receiving Hospital. I really had a fantastic team, but when your organs are bad, they’re just bad. There’s nothing you can do about that but… wait, and hope. I’ve been fighting this battle for decades, son. That’s why I’m so glad that I’m out here with my family.”
“We’re glad you’re here too, and stop talking like you’re dying.” He smiles sadly at me. I’m not willing to accept that there’s nothing else that can be done for him, but the truth is that he is dying. He’s fading away a little bit more and more every day. I take his hand.
“Promise you’ll come and stay with Ana and me for a little while—a week. Give us a chance to spoil you, too.” He laughs.
“I will,” he replies. We sit there silently for a while until Elliot comes out.
“Hi, Grampa,” he says and kisses him on the cheek. “You’re up early.”
“Just getting a little fresh air,” he says.
“Well, look out, because Mia’s looking for you.” Elliot looks at the door. “And here she comes.”
Mia comes out of the patio doors and immediately puts a hat on Pops’ head.
“Mia, he’s a grown man. He doesn’t need you treating him like a 2-year-old!” Elliot scolds.
“It’s chilly out and I don’t want him to catch cold, so sue me! Humor me, Granddaddy,” she says as she passes him some greenish-black liquid.
“You brought that crap up here?” Elliot barks. “Why are you making him drink the crap? He hasn’t even had his breakfast yet!” Mia throws a dirty look at him while Pops quickly starts to drink down the concoction.
“See? Granddaddy likes it!” she hisses at Elliot.
“He doesn’t like it!” Elliot shoots back. “He just doesn’t have the heart to tell you that shit tastes like the dirty sole of somebody’s shoe!” I look at Pops’ face and he is a bit frowned up. He doesn’t like it.
“Mia, what’s in there?” I ask. She rattles off a bunch of herbs and roots. Everything sounds perfectly horrible.
“Okay, now what’s in there for flavor?” She has to think for a moment. I point to Pops so that he can’t see me. She looks at him.
“Unless it’s water and you were dying of thirst, when is the last time you drank anything that quickly?” She frowns and looks at Pops. “Every time you say ‘humor me, Granddaddy,’ he smiles and drinks that stuff. Did you ever once ask him if he wanted it? If he liked the taste of it? If he feels any better after he drinks it, because although vitamins and nutrients are good for the average body, the extra vitamins in this mud shake you feed him every day is probably not doing much good for him right now, yet he chokes it down… to humor you. Think about that.”
“Well, when you put it like that…” and now she’s all bruised.
“And put the puppy away, Mia,” I scold her. If she wants to act like a child, then I’ll treat her like one. “I’m not ‘putting it’ like anything. I’m telling you the truth. He just wants to relax and enjoy his time with his family. If you want to give him something healthy, make him a fruit smoothie. Don’t make him gag on that crap.” I take the glass from Pops and he looks at me puzzled. “Would you like some cranberry juice, Pops?” His eyes light up.
“Yes, please!” he says. I hand Mia her gag concoction.
“Cranberry juice is good for him. You can get it for him.” She twists her lips and goes inside.
“I’m glad she cares for me, but that stuff is wretched!” Pops says, smacking his lips and trying to get rid of the flavor of that toe-jam juice that Mia was feeding him.
“I can imagine it was probably pretty dreadful. Your tongue is black,” I tell him.
“That’s a combination of things, but that concoction doesn’t help.” Mia’s back shortly with a large glass of cranberry juice.
“Here you go, Granddaddy,” she says, handing him the glass. He drinks it happily… and slowly, savoring the flavor.
“That’s the reaction you want, Meelo,” I tell her and kiss her on the forehead.
“See ya later, Gramps,” Elliot says and kisses Pops again on the cheek. Since when did Elliot start with all the kissing?
“We’ll be back later, Pops,” I say squeezing his shoulder. He covers my hand with his and smiles. Mia sits on the bench next to him and snuggles into his arm.
“Tell me some more stories about Daddy when he was a kid,” she says and leans on his shoulder. Elliot and I walk back to my vacation house.
“He doesn’t have long left, you know,” Elliot says softly. I don’t want to admit it, but I know.
“Oh my God, this is the most heavenly thing I have ever felt. Where have you been all my life?”
Maxie is lost in the third trimester maternity massage that pays special attention to lower back, ankles, feet and legs coupled with light aromatherapy. As we were getting similar massages and wouldn’t be able to indulge in the champagne, we decided to pair up and get our massages while the rest of the ladies party together in one of the larger rooms. Mandy is joining us since she’s breastfeeding Harry and won’t drink the champagne.
A prenatal massage is performed with the mom-to-be lying on her side as any other position could be detrimental to mom and baby. The masseuse is constantly asking if I’m okay, if anything is uncomfortable, if I would like more of one technique or less of another. There is a bit of stroking and deep tissue massage for my aching parts which I really love. Poor Maxie was jetted off into uncontrolled Nirvana when the masseuse did some technique that helped the fluid flow from her ankles. I thought she was coming!
I wish I had thought of prenatal massage when I was pregnant,” Mandy says, observing Maxie’s orgasmic moans.
“She’s seems a little miserable,” I lament. “Is the third trimester really that bad?”
“Do you see how you feel now?” Mandy asks.
“Without exaggerating, I’d say multiply it by about five and add swollen feet and ankles to the mix. By then, the baby… sorry, babies… will be moving to the degree that you will actually be able to see their body parts through your stomach.”
“You’ve recently had a baby, ma’am?” Mandy’s masseuse asks, who happens to be a guy.
“Yes. Harry is just about six months now,” she says.
“What have you done to regain your pre-baby body weight?” he asks her. Mandy looks at me and I raise my eyebrow. Is he coming on to her?
“Nothing,” she says. “I breastfeed and I’ve always been conscious about what I eat.”
“Well, you look fantastic if you don’t mind me saying,” he says finally.
“Careful. That’s my stepmom you’re talking to,” I say, a little protective. He chuckles.
“No worries about that, stepdaughter,” he says jovially, showing me his left hand. “I’m very happily married, but as a masseuse, I appreciate a good form.” He turns back to Mandy. “I hope I didn’t offend you.”
“Not at all,” she chuckles. “Thanks for the compliment.” I don’t care if he is married. Don’t act inappropriately with my daddy’s wife.
“Five times worse?” I ask, getting the conversation back on track. Mandy nods.
“Try ten!” Maxie says, her voice muffled. “I swear I feel like I’m going to explode any day now if somebody doesn’t get this kid out of me!” Maxie is very pregnant at just over eight months and due mid-November. She makes me afraid for that time because I’m carrying twins.
“Will I even be able to walk by then? I’m carrying two!”
“Um, I don’t know, but you’re going to have to check in those stilettos,” Mandy warns.
“I know. I’ve been trying to put it off because I love my stilettos, but they’re becoming uncomfortable. Please don’t tell Christian. He’ll hide every pair that I own,” I sigh.
“You’ll get rid of them when you’re ready,” she says. “Your feet will mutiny on you, and it will be all over.” Her masseuse completes her massage and leaves the room. She covers herself and sits up on the table.
I’m afraid, Mandy,” I tell her. She stares at me for a moment and I’m sure she doesn’t know what to say. “I’m afraid of labor and delivery, of being a mother—twins! It’s terrifying. I have Christian, thank God, but neither of us knows what we’re doing.”
“You guys have an amazing support system,” Mandy says. “His mother is a pediatrician, you have all this family and your friends around you, and Ana… you need to trust your gut more. You’re a doctor. You know intellectually exactly what those babies need, and the minute you hold them in your arms, you’re going to know emotionally. It’s scary, yes. Look at me. My labor was quite traumatic and look at my little Harry. He’s perfect—gorgeous like his father, well-behaved… shots and teething are an experience, but he’s been the joy of my life these last months.” She ties her robe closed and takes my hand. “Trust me. It’s one of the best decisions you’ll ever make, and one of the most wonderful—and frightful—experiences you’ll have in your whole life. You’ll do fine, but you have to stop doubting yourself. You’re very intelligent. Trust your instincts.”
It’s only now that I notice that Maxie is quiet and has fallen asleep on the table. Either she was very tired or that massage relaxed her to the point of not being able to keep her eyes open.
“Wow, her ankles do look smaller,” I say. “What did you do?” I ask her masseuse.
“A combination of things,” she says. “This upward stroke helps with the circulation. As you can see this leg is slightly elevated—that always helps. This roughage was not an accident,” she declares, pointing at what looks like a limp cabbage leaf on Maxie’s ankle, the one that’s not elevated. “It actually helps to draw out the extra fluid. I know she’s asleep, but she’s going to have to wake soon. Her hip is going to be sore.” I sit up and tie my robe.
“Maxie,” I say gently trying to rouse my friend. “Maaaaxxiiiiieeee,” I sing her name softly. Her eyes open slowly and she looks at me.
“I was dreaming,” she says, softly. “I was in the ocean, swimming freely and effortlessly with the dolphins and the fish, a beautiful girl just flowing through the water.” Her masseuse comes over and, taking her hands, gently helps her sit up.
“Then, I wake up and realize that I was the whale all along…”
A/N: Just a day of maxing and relaxing and chilling in the woods… but you know me. There’s always some drama lurking in the shadows.
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Love and Handcuffs!